Tongue Tied
by aLLiCaT225
Summary: After the Boondock Saints screen test, Troy asks Sean to help Norman perfect his accent before shooting begins. But what happens when an innocent favor for a co-star, turns into more than either of them bargained for?...Oneshot. FLANDUS.


**A/N: Hey y'all. Ok so a few things you need to know before reading: This takes place before the filming of Boondock Saints, after the screen test that orchestrated by writer and director Troy Duffy. You can find the video on Youtube, just type in Boondock Saints Screen Test and click on the black and white one that has Conner and Murphy sitting at a table with long hair. Seriously it should be like the first one, and if you haven't seen it, you should because it's just hysterical. Not to mention that's where we start off in this fic. I'm not saying you absolutely _have_ to watch it before you read...but it may help you see where I'm coming from. Plus, any true Boondock fan would want to see how this amazing movie started out. Just sayin'. **

**Now, this fic is RPS and yes, it's Flandus. But you probably already knew that from the summary...**

**Disclaimer: Sean, Norman, and Troy all belong to themselves. Boondock Saints and it's characters belong to Troy. **

**Warnings: Butchering of the Irish accent, boys kissing, and a tad bit o' angst for flavor. **

**Rating: PG-15...for cursing and slash. **

"And that's a fucking wrap!"

Troy Duffy called out from his makeshift director's chair. They had just finished the final scene of the hectic Boondock Saints screen test that he had thrown together and managed to get done in two, 12-hour days at his LA home.

It was a last minute endeavor on his dime, mainly just to see if the two he cast as Conner and Murphy has the right chemistry on camera. Though it was a long process and an extremely rough cut of the scenes, Sean Patrick Flanery and Norman Reedus fucking owned every minute of screen time they had. Troy was now even more confident in his choice of the brothers MacManus and couldn't wait to start filming the movie for real. There was however just more thing he needed to address to make everything perfect.

"Reedus," Troy caught up with the actor as he was leaving 'set' and pulled him over to the side, out of the earshot of the last few lingering crew members. "I just wanted to tell you, great fucking job today. However, there's just one thing I'd like you to fix for me. And trust me, when you do it, it's going to make Murphy that much better."

"Yeah, sure. Anything you need man." Norman nodded eagerly, happy to oblige with whatever Troy was about to ask of him. He was the writer and director after all.

Troy looked around again and pulled Norman in closer before speaking again. "Your accent, it's getting there, but it still needs a little work. And you fucking are Murphy and I know you can have this shit down by the time we start filming. So I was thinking, since we can't really afford to hire a dialog coach that you could ask Flanery for some pointers."

Norman appeared taken aback. He avoided Troy's eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "Is it really that bad?"

"I wouldn't say its bad," Troy began, trying not to insult his actor anymore than he apparently already had. "It's just not as—"

"Good as mine." The all-too-familiar voice came from behind followed by a heavy hand clapping down on Norman's shoulder. The darker haired actor looked up to see who else but Sean standing there, grin as smug as ever smeared across his face.

Norm opened his mouth, hoping that some kind of comeback would magically pour out. Luckily though, Troy came to his defense. Sort of.

"Hey, Flanery," He waved a finger in Sean's face. "I wasn't going to say that."

"Oh? So you were going to tell him he sounds like the Lucky Charms guy?" The blond chuckled at his own joke. Even Troy cracked a little smirk.

Not appreciating the fact that he was being ganged up on by his costar and director, Norm shrugged Sean's arm off his shoulder and turned to walk away.

"Oh, c'mon Norm," Sean stopped laughing and grabbed his arm to stop him from going any further. He really did want to help him out after all. "We were only joking. Well, I was. But you never can tell with Duffy."

"Fuck you, Flanery," Troy shoved him hard in the arm. "And seriously. Are you gunna help him or not?"

"Of course I'm fucking gunna help him," Sean said and then turned back to Norman, pulling him closer so he could rest his arm on his shoulder again. "Don'cha worry, Normy," He slipped perfectly into Conner's Irish brogue. "We'll 'ave yeh talkin' like yeh jus' got off th' boat in no time."

"Now that's what I wanna fucking hear," Troy exclaimed, clapping his hands together as he took a few steps backward. "My two brothers, working together," Satisfied, he turned to go. "It's a fucking beautiful thing people!"

"So when do you want to do this?" Sean asked as soon as Troy was out of sight. Norman, who was gnawing mercilessly at his thumbnail and looking particularly on the spacey side, only shrugged. He didn't really care; he just wanted to get this over with.

"Doesn't matter to me," Norm replied simply. "I'm free the rest of the week so whenever's good for—"

"Tomorrow." Sean cut him off quickly, leaving no room for negotiation. "My place. 2 o'clock. Don't be late."

"Yes sir," Norman did a little half-salute, mocking Sean's demanding tone. Then he decided to try his hand at Murphy's accent again, almost as if to prove to his fellow actor that his brogue really wasn't that bad. "I'll be there not a moment aft'r th' stroke o' 2."

Sean just blinked at him before trying (and failing) to hold back the laughter threatening to burst out. "Uh, yeah. We've got a LOT of work to do…"

~*~*~*~

As promised, Norman arrived at Sean's not a second later than two o'clock. Even though he knew Sean had been joking yesterday, Norm still didn't want to take a chance at being late and piss him off. And, truth be told, Norman was a little bit intimidated by Sean, though he would never admit it. It seemed like Sean was the type of guy that excelled in anything he tried, whether that be acting or martial arts or any of the four and a half million other hobbies he had.

This whole process made Norm nervous. Though everyone working on Boondock was relatively new to the business(with the exception of Willem), Norman felt like he had to prove himself more than anyone else on set. Even though they were playing brothers, Norman felt especially inferior to Sean. And this whole "having to take accent lessons" from him, wasn't helping.

"Ah, Norman, you're right on time! Come in!" Sean opened the door as soon as Norman knocked and gestured welcomingly into his home. Norm stepped inside, and stood there awkwardly waiting for Sean to close the door and lead the way.

"You can have a seat in the living room," the blond actor motioned toward said location, sensing Norman's slight discomfort. "I'll be there in a second; I'm just gunna grab a beer."

Norm nodded and made his way to the living room, where he plopped down on Sean's black leather couch and waited patiently for him to join him.

"You want anything?" Sean called from the kitchen. Norman could hear the clanking of the glass bottles against the shelves of the fridge.

"No, thanks," he answered back. "I'm fine."

Sean entered the living room with a Guinness bottle in each hand. "In case you change your mind," He replied to Norm's questioning expression. "Which, trust me, you will once we get started on this accent shit." He set one bottle down on the coffee table in front of his costar and then used the bottom of his gray t-shirt to twist off the cap of the other before taking a seat next to Norman.

"Alright, shall we get on wit'it, then?" Sean asked, already slipping into Conner's brogue.

"Aye," Norman nodded and, likewise, got into the mindset of Murphy.

"Ok so, say one of your lines," Sean commanded. "It'll be easier to focus on what you're doing wrong then trying to start from scratch."

Norman drew a complete blank. He hated when people put him on the spot like that, and it was always so hard to think of your lines out of order and out of context and—

"Anytime now, Norm," Sean made a coaxing motion with his hands.

Norman resisted the urge to shout 'I'm thinking!' and instead used the few more seconds of silence that allotted to manifest one of his many many lines in the film. Finally, one came to him.

"Me too, tha's stupid. Name one thin' you're gunna needa rope for," Norman recited as Murph as best he could. "How was that?" He looked to Sean, whose face held an unreadable expression.

"It wasn't bad," Sean answered honestly. "In fact, I'm glad you choose that one. There's a lot we can work with that'll fix your entire accent."

Upon hearing this, Norman allowed himself to relax a little.

"Your pitch was a lot better that time too," Sean continued and Norman got the sneaking suspicion that the man just liked the sound of his own voice. "If you can keep it that way throughout, you'll be golden. Now we just have to work on the way you say certain words."

And before Norman could even reply with a "Like what?" Sean had already moved on to explaining how the Irish exaggerate their consonants while softening their vowels, and how 'for' should be said like 'fer' and 'you' should be 'yeh' and 'your' 'yer' and so on. Norman just sat there, watching, and taking (or at least trying to) this all in all the while being completely and utterly mesmerized by Sean. Soon, he wasn't even hearing the words anymore, just seeing Sean's lips move, and the expressions on his face, the array emotions flashing across those crystalline blue eyes…

"You ready?" Those very same eyes became questioning, snapping Norman out of his stupor.

"For what?" And only then did Norman realize he was biting his lip. Trying not to imagine how weird that must have looked to Sean, he went back to the only defense he had, confusion.

"I asked if you wanted to run through the dialogue for the rope scene," Sean repeated, emulating Norm's look of misunderstanding.

"Oh, right. Yeah. Sure." Norman ran a hand over the back of his head. "Uh, whenever you wanna start," He gave a go-ahead gesture with his free hand and tried not to meet Sean's scrutinizing gaze.

Fortunately, though, that only lasted a few seconds, and before Norman knew it, he wasn't sitting on the couch with Sean anymore.

"Yeh know what we need, man? Some rope."

And just like that, Norman was Murphy.

"Absolutely. What are yeh, insane?" He remembered, vaguely, what Sean had said about soft consonants or vowels or whatever. Or at least he must have, because Sean gave him an approving nod before continuing.

"No 'm not insane. Charlie Bronson's always got rope?"

"_What?"_

"Yeah. He's got a lot 'o rope strapped around him in th' movies. An' they always end up usin' it."

"Yeh've lost it, 'aven't ya?"

"No, I'm serious."

"Me too. That's shtupid—"

"Good!" Sean exclaimed, throwing Norman right out of character and earning himself a death glare. "Th-the way you did that," He motioned to the empty space in front of Norman and smiled apologetically. "That was good."

Norman didn't let the huge smile he wore on the inside make itself known. Instead, he just went back to finishing his line.

"Name one thing yer gunna needa rope fer."

"I don' fuckin' know what yer gunna need it fer, they just always need it."

"What's this 'they' shit? This isn't a movie."

"Oh right," Without missing a beat, Sean reached over and lifted his half empty beer bottle of the table and held in front of Norman's face as if pretending it was Murphy's huge hunting knife. "Is that right, Rambo?" He waved it in Norm's face for good measure and the brunette had to swat it away before saying his next line because Sean was just too goddamn distracting for his own good sometimes.

"Alright, get yer shtupid fucking rope."

Thinking he was home free, Norman grabbed the not-yet-open Guinness from the table and leaned back nonchalantly on the couch. He had barely touched his lips to the bottle for a celebratory sip when Sean interrupted him yet again.

"Wrong."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Norm snapped, genuinely annoyed. He swore he thought he had that whole scene in the bag.

"The way you said 'fucking'," Sean clarified. "It's all wrong."

"Well, whose fault is that? Hm?" Norm glared pointedly at Sean. Even though he hadn't really been paying attention during his little lesson, Norman was pretty sure that 'fuck' wasn't one of the words he mentioned.

"Well, I _thought_ it was pretty self-explanatory," Sean countered. "But whatever. I guess I'll just tell you now." He sighed and shifted his position on the couch so that he was now facing his costar. "Ok, remember what I said about soft vowels?"

Not really. "Yes," Norman nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He may not have been paying that close of attention, but he didn't need Sean to fucking patronize him for God's sake.

"Ok, so instead of the 'uh' sound that the 'U' usually makes, it's going to be more of an 'ooh' sound," Sean explained in a way that surprisingly made a lot of sense. "So you're gunna say _fook, _as opposed to fuck. C'mon, try it with me."

Sean took the beer bottle out of Norman's hand, placing it on the table and only then did Norman notice how close they were sitting. He gulped and, just like that, his nerves went on high alert once more.

However, that did nothing to help him when Sean started bringing his newly freed hand up to grab on to Norman's jaw. He froze completely and couldn't do anything but sit there as Sean manipulated his mouth to match that single word he was repeating over and over again. A word, mind you, that shouldn't be said in such close proximity unless you were planning on doing something about it, which Norman was about 85 percent sure that Sean probably _wasn't_ going to do anything about it.

Norman was vaguely aware that the space between him and Sean was shrinking by the second but he wasn't sure if it was him or Sean or both of them just subconsciously gravitating towards each other. He was also aware that Sean had stopped talking and that his hand had stilled but remained on his jaw.

The air in the room had changed, suddenly buzzing with an odd sort of tension as soon as Sean became silent. Norman watched with interested eyes as Sean shifted his gaze from his eyes to his mouth and back. Norman's heart was now pounding in his chest as he imagined what was going through Sean's head at that moment.

Even though he had somewhat of an idea, Norman exercised what was left of his self control and broke a bit of the tension by speaking.

"Did you want me to repeat after you or something?" The words came out in a low, shaky whisper, never mind the fact that talking in general was a bit awkward what with Sean's hand still clamped around his mouth.

By talking, Norman seemed to only add to the sensation in that hung in the air. Their breathing had now synced up and Sean kept opening and closing his mouth as if deliberating whether or not he wanted to say something or just continue silently starting into Norman's eyes.

However, Sean opted for neither and before Norman even had time to realize what was happening, he felt Sean's lips press up against his own. His hand had shifted from grasping onto his jaw to gently caressing his cheek, and to say that Norman was caught completely off guard would be an understatement. Though, that didn't stop him from parting his lips and allowing Sean to slip his tongue into his mouth to deepen this kiss.

Sean appeared to be almost in a trance, just saying 'fuck it' and going for it without really thinking about the consequences. But, as the kiss became more heated, it was almost as if everything hit him all at once and he realized what he was doing. Without warning Sean wretched himself away from Norman, the look on his face portraying something in between embarrassment and absolute horror.

"Shit, Norman," Sean shot up from his seat, putting as much distance between him and his costar as the room would allow. He nervously ran his hand through his mop of blond hair while shifting from side to side, not so much pacing as he was looking like he was contemplating bolting out of there at any second. "I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I-I wasn't thinking. Shit."

Norman, however, didn't see what the big deal was. Yeah, sure he was caught by surprise because well, he wasn't really expecting that from someone he met a mere four days ago, especially someone like Sean who gave off the "straight as they come" vibe. But that, obviously, wasn't the case here. At all.

So, while Sean was in the middle of having a meltdown, Norman decided that he had enough of being the one who was constantly getting curve balls thrown at him and figured now would be as good a time as any to turn the tables. Without another thought, Norm stood and made his way over to Sean, stopping him from making his escape into the kitchen.

They both remained there for a moment, completely still, doing nothing but staring at each other in a way similar to when they had been sitting on the couch. Sean, again, looked like he wanted to say something, but any words that may have been said were forgotten the instant Norman grabbed hold of the back of Sean's head and smashed their mouths together

Sean tensed up for a second, a reaction that didn't go unexpected. Norman knew that Sean was probably expecting a punch in the jaw, not a continuation of their game of tonsil hockey. It didn't take long for that initial shock to wear off this time and soon the kiss became a battle for control. Sean had moved both of his hands to Norman's face as the brunette gripped the front of Sean's shirt, pulling him closer.

Eventually though, air once again became a necessity. They pulled back, breaths coming in heavy gasps as they used each other's foreheads for support.

"Shit," Sean said again, once his brain had regained enough of its oxygen supply. He shifted his gaze so that it was level with Norman's, sighing and moving back slightly.

Norman's lips quirked up into a half smile as he brought a hand up to Sean's face. He leaned forward, fully intent on making contact with Sean's lips and kissing him without ever stopping.

Only, that wasn't what happened. Sean pulled away as soon as he felt Norman's mouth drawing dangerously close to his own. Norm was taken aback and opened his eyes when the feeling of Sean's forehead against his, and the heat of his breath and touch of his skin was no longer present around him.

Sean had once again distanced himself from Norman, looking more freaked out than he had when he had first kissed him.

"Norman," Sean breathed and looked around the room, almost in disbelief. "What are we doing?"

The air in the room changed as quickly as Sean's demeanor had, going from a tension that most would define as sexual to something else entirely. Norman couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He also couldn't hide the look of bewilderment that spread across his features when Sean asked him that. Though the question was most likely a rhetorical one, Norman searched Sean's face as if the answer was going to be written there in plain English.

"I don't…" He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "I'm not exactly sure what you want me to say here, Sean," Norman said finally, voice holding the slightest hint of a biting, icy tone. His mind was spinning, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions all colliding at once. Truth be told, he didn't know what to think anymore. The way his day was going, a meteor could come crashing through the roof, just for the sake of catching him completely off guard.

"I can't do this," Sean told the floor. "I'm sorry, Norman."

Norman's disbelief was growing by the minute. "_You_ can't?" he threw his arms up in the air, shock quickly turning into frustration. "Christ, Sean, _you're _the one who—"

"I know," Sean put a hand up, finally looking at Norman as he cut him off sharply. He didn't need him to finish that sentence because he knew exactly what he was going to say. "I know what I did, and I'm sorry." He continued, voice softening. "I told you, I wasn't thinking. I should have never—I just, I'm sorry."

Apologizing over and over again wasn't going to change the amount of anger and just plain hurt coursing through Norman's body. He didn't say anything though, just crossed his arms and shook his head.

"I just can't get involved with you, not like this. Not now," Sean was once again favoring the floor as a nice spot to rest his gaze. "Troy would…We can't."

There were a million things Norman could've said right there, ranging from the cliché, 'Nobody has to find out', to 'fuck you, you stupid, self-bastard!' But, as much as he would hate to admit it, Sean was right in a way, getting involved romantically with costars (especially costars that were supposed to be playing your twin brother no less) was always a very sticky situation, one that rarely ever ended well. Still, that did nothing to stop the hurt.

"I think you should go now," Sean spoke as if trying hard to hold back a stream of tears. And, as much as it killed him, Norman had to comply. There was no reason to stay there anymore. He got his accent lesson, Troy would be happy to hear that at least.

With one last glance at Sean, Norman started toward the front door. He got about half way there, before he was struck with the urge to turn around. When he faced Sean again, was surprised to see that the blond was watching him leave, which in turn caused them to lock eyes with one another.

Norman held his gaze for a few seconds, wanting to say something but ultimately deciding against it. Why make this more painful than it already was? So instead, he sighed and broke their stare, before turning back around and walking out of Sean's life forever…

…Or at least until they had to start shooting in Toronto. Two months.

That was enough time to get over someone...Right?

~*~*~

**A/N: Here's the deal. I wanted to start a Sean/Norm series of oneshots. This would be the first in the series. The next one is coming. I promise, I'm not gunna leave you hanging here. I'm not that mean...but you are if you don't review this ;) Just kidding...but seriously. **


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